Passenger manifest and the litany of coincidences in unfolding tragedy

Eamonn Duff and Rachel Browne

Michael and Carol Clancy had never met Albert and Maree Rizk. Their lives could not have been more contrasting. And yet through a simple twist of fate and circumstances out of their control, the two couples came to share their final moments together in the first class cabin of doomed Malaysia Airlines Flight 17.

A glance down the passenger manifest of MH17 reveals a litany of coincidences, conjunctions and sheer bad luck that led to mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters and sons losing their lives in such tragic circumstances.

Following a 35-year career as a primary school teacher, Mr Clancy, from Wollongong, had decided to treat himself with a dream three-week trip to Europe with his wife, Carol. After a life devoted to the education and wellbeing of others, they had also decided to travel in style. The couple saved for years so they could sit in first-class seats.

While the Clancys could not have been any happier as they tucked their hand luggage into the overhead campartments of seats 2A and 2C, the same could not be said for the couple in front of them, the Rizks, who had desperately tried to change flights so they could avoid a nine-hour stopover in Kuala Lumpur, en route home to Melbourne. Tragically, the real estate agent and his wife did not succeed.

Behind the Rizks to the right were Queensland couple Howard and Susan Horder who, sitting in 2J and 2K, were enjoying retirement by travelling the world. The couple, both 63, had just completed their latest adventure – a four-week trip visiting their son David in London and then taking in an Andre Rieu concert in the Netherlands.

Completing the Australian contingent in first class was Gerry Menke, a successful abalone fisherman, who was travelling home to Victoria with his wife Mary, who ran a hairdressing salon with her daughter in the rural town of Mallacoota.

Advertisement

On Saturday, the full MH17 passenger manifest emerged, revealing not only the names and seat numbers of those onboard the flight but the order in which they had checked in at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport.

&amp;amp;amp;nbsp;

As the Clancys queued with passports in hand, the list shows that directly behind them was Liliane Derden, 50, an events and publications manager who had just enjoyed a solo holiday, leaving her husband and two children behind in Canberra.

She would later take her place in row 25, nine rows back from Sydney nun Sister Philomene Tiernan, who was bound for home after a busy trip attending a conference in Britain, a theology course in Ireland and a spiritual retreat in Burgundy, France. Sister Tiernan had been provided with the left-side window seat in the 16th row and occupying the parallel window seat to the right was Helena Sidelik who, in the lead-up to take off, sent a text message to her friends, telling them: "Ready for home, boarding shortly”. The Gold Coast woman had been on her way home from Amsterdam where she had attended a friend’s wedding, before taking a side trip to the Greek Islands.

As more details emerge about the Australians who lost their lives in the missile attack, it is apparent the majority were heading home with postcard memories from European summer holidays. One of the most tragic stories from the crash is that of 68-year-old Nick Norris, who was returning to Perth with his three grandchildren, Mo Maslin, 12, Evie, 10, and Otis, 8, after a lengthy vacation. The group were positioned in left-side seats, in the centre of the plane, with Mr Norris sitting next to Mo and behind Evie and Otis so he could keep a loving, watchful eye on the pair. The children’s parents, Rin Norris, and her partner Anthony Maslin were not on the flight after deciding to hang back and enjoy a few extra days in Amsterdam. Sitting directly across from Mr Norris was award-winning novelist Liam Davison and his wife Frankie, a teacher at Melbourne’s Toorak College, who was dashing home in time for the beginning of the new school term – just like the three youngsters opposite.

Located in the last row of the plane, in seats 40J and 40K, were Roger and Jill Guard, two highly respected medical professionals who lived in Toowoomba, south-west of Brisbane. The couple were returning from Amsterdam and Mr Guard had been due to return to work on Sunday at Toowoomba Hospital where he was the Director of Pathology. Darling Downs Hospital and Health Service Chair Mike Horan said Dr Guard was a ‘‘leader’’ who had been looked up to by staff. Like so many families, friendship circles, workplaces and communities right around Australia and the world, the hospital will never quite be the same again.